Once an old swagman sat down and rested by the camp fire at night,
with the Billy on the boil he'd tune up his old banjo strings tight.
When he drank up all his tea he plucked the banjo strings
and he played the swagman's lullaby
with the words he kept hearing in his head .
With a coo-cooee no turning back,
coo-cooee for Jumbuck Jack.
As the morning sun stirred him up
he threw on the swag on his back.
For sure there was no better company
than a banjo on his knee.
Every night he'd love to play again the swagman's melody .
It was a swagman's life he'd chosen
with each step he walked away from a place he knew
that once belonged to a part of yesterday .
